


Missing You

by kiazareni



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, I hate sad endings, I suck at tags, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, Reunion, but with happy ending i swear, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiazareni/pseuds/kiazareni
Summary: He tried to remember the last time they talked but nothing came up. It was probably a pointless message, a cat video, or a polite answer to a meaningless question, like how are you, or where have you been. It didn’t make him angry, because if it had, he would have done something about it, he would have kept bothering him, sending texts, and calling until the other had no choice but to answer. If Yuri had been angry, he would have fought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I had this idea while watching the Winter Universiade and had to write it immediately. Yuri is 21, and a university student (since that's kind of important if i want him to participate in the competition), Otabek is 25 and obviously he is, too, because... just because. 
> 
> No beta, because i was too excited, i couldn't wait to post it. Also, I chose this title in two seconds for the very same reason, sorry. I suck at titles.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Yuri glanced around the rink, willing himself to stay still instead of turning his head and looking everywhere. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, glaring at his feet like it was their fault that they couldn’t stop tapping against the floor. There was no point in denying it. He was nervous.

He was fucking nervous at a skating competition for university students where he was clearly twice as good as 95% of the contestants. He knew he could easily win this. There were maybe two other people in the men’s category who could match his technical skills, that wasn’t even close to what he was really worried about, and that’s what fucked him up. He needed to calm down, or else there was a chance he could actually screw up his program and lose. Him, a 2-time world champion, 4-time european champion and 4-time russian national champion. That would be something.

He glanced around again carefully, not wanting to let Yakov see that he was distracted. His coach still acted like this was the single most important performance of his career and he really wanted to avoid the lecture. (Then again, Yakov was kind of right, every competition was important, because every competition could be your last, when you’re a figure skater.)

He couldn’t see him anywhere, and that made him even more nervous. Yuri wanted to get it the hell over with as quickly as possible, so he could move on and focus on his program, which wasn’t exactly on the top of his list at the moment.

He tried to remember the last time they talked but nothing came up. It was probably a pointless message, a cat video, or a polite answer to a meaningless question, like how are you, or where have you been. It didn’t make him angry, because if it had, he would have done something about it, he would have kept bothering him, sending texts, and calling until the other had no choice but to answer. If Yuri had been angry, he would have fought.

He remembered how he pretended not to care. He even avoided Otabek at competitions for a while, when he realized that their messages had become rare and distant, and somewhere between Yuri’s first and second world gold medal, they stopped talking at all. He hadn’t even seen him for 3 years, they kept getting sorted to different competitions at the grand prix series, and then Otabek had suffered an injury so he was forced to hang up his skates for an entire season. He wasn’t the same after, had a hard time catching up, and so they were always in different groups, which made it easier to just… not meet him. 

But here, there was no way they weren’t going to see each other. Winter Universiade was held in Almaty and as soon as Yuri’s feet touched Kazakh ground at the airport, he knew that this was going to be different. Maybe it was all of Kazakhstan around him, the language, the people, the culture that kept reminding him of Otabek, maybe it was just the thought that he was in his former best friend’s hometown, and he wasn’t there to show him around, but all the repressed feelings of the last 3 years came crashing down on him.

Yuri missed Otabek. He missed him so fucking much even after all this time, that he considered faking an illness or a light injury just so he could turn back and leave the country immediately. It surprised him, he thought he became rather good at building strong, big walls around his emotions. Of course, Otabek always had a way of seeing through those walls, making them disappear completely. He did it with one sentence six years ago, in Barcelona. 

He checked the schedule again, even though he knew it by heart even before he left Saint Petersburg. Otabek was the first one to skate in group five, Yuri was third in the last group, number six. On the ice, the fifth skater of group four just finished his short program with disappointment written all over his face. Yuri didn’t know what caused it, he couldn’t care less about the others. He wanted to see Otabek.

He spotted him just before they were called to the ice for the warm up. Otabek stood at the gate of the rink, wearing a jacket with Kazakhstan’s colours, listening to what probably was a few encouraging words from his coach. He seemed calm, confident, looking ahead with that awfully familiar stoic expression that made Yuri’s stomach do a flip. He didn’t seem to be nervous at all, didn’t glance around looking for someone in the crowd, and Yuri wondered if he even knew he was here. He probably did. He must have.

He tuned out the referee’s voice listing the contestants with an annoying english accent, and focused on Otabek. He’d become even better since Yuri last saw him skating, that was obvious even just from watching him warming up. His triple axel was beautiful, he landed it effortlessly and glided through the ice like he was born there. Yuri made a point of never watching Otabek’s programs after they stopped talking, but now he found himself unable to look away. He suddenly regretted not following his progress, and promised himself that he would check every available video on YouTube as soon as he was out of there.

The six minutes were up, and the referee called the skaters off the ice. Otabek stopped to talk to his coach one more time.

Between that, and him taking his starting position at the center of the rink, Yuri made a split-second decision. He started running, ignoring Yakov’s voice calling out to him, asking what the hell he was doing. He didn’t have a good answer anyway.

He stopped at the first row, in front of the hundreds of people waving flags and girls clutching teddy bears they wanted to throw on the ice after the program and yelled as loudly as he could, hoping that his voice would reach Otabek.

"Davai!"

He saw a momentary confusion appear on the oh-so-familiar face, and Otabek jerked his head up to look for the source of the voice calling out to him. Warm, brown eyes found Yuri’s, and then, as quickly as it all happened, the neutral expression was back, and he looked above again, just as his starting position required.

Yuri stood there, frozen in place and hoped desperately that he didn’t just fuck up Otabek’s whole program. He certainly didn’t think this through, because if he had, it would have given him enough time to come up with an excuse not to do it. He didn’t even blink, as he watched his friend preparing for the first jump.

It was a quad toe-triple toe combination, but the triple turned into a double. Fuck. Dropping this on him two seconds before the music started was a huge mistake, and Yuri wished he could take it back. He would never forgive himself if Otabek blew his program because of him in his hometown of all places, with probably his whole family watching and cheering for him.

He stepped out of the next jump, the triple Axel which he landed easily during the warm up, and Yuri wanted to die. It wasn’t a big mistake, the rotations were there, but it was still a mistake and it was his fault. 

The music went on, and Otabek seemed to have collected himself because he skated clean after that. He landed another quad in the second half of the program, this time, a lutz and his step sequence was mindblowing. Yuri calmed down a bit, and scolded himself for worrying too much. They were professional athletes after all, they needed way more than this to become too distracted to be outstanding. 

And he was, Otabek was outstanding, and the crowd cheered and clapped as one, when he finished his program, standing still with his arms raised for a few seconds, breathing heavily. He looked around, smiling softly, and it was so _him_ , that small smile that contained a hundred different emotions. He picked up a teddy bear on his way to the gate, not looking in Yuri’s direction again. 

Otabek scored 98.2 points and was still in first place when roughly an hour later Yuri took the ice. He didn’t look up, he refused to scan the crowd wondering if he was watching. He just hoped with every fiber of his being that he was. He half expected a deep, reassuring “davai”, but it never came. That was it. Yuri took the first step, but they didn’t get a chance to talk before his program started, so now it was all up to Otabek. The Kazakh man had already finished for the day, he might as well have gone home and Yuri wouldn’t see him again until the free skate.

It made no difference that they would meet again the next day anyway. If Otabek heard him (which he did), if he saw him _trying_ (which he did), and left without talking to him, then there was no point in hoping for anything. 

The music started and Yuri knew that there was no way he could just ignore this for 3 minutes. His hands were shaking a little but he somehow managed to land his first jump, a quad Salchow, without fucking up. It became easier after that, he regained his confidence and decided that if he can’t stop thinking about Otabek, he will just have to use this to get through his program. The music was fitting anyway, an instrumental piece from Les Miserables, and Yuri poured his feelings into his steps, into the movements of his arms and let all of his emotions show on his face for the whole world to see.

They didn’t matter anyway. He just wanted Otabek to see it, he wanted his skating say the words instead of him, if he didn’t get the chance.

After he finished, he couldn’t recall anything that happened on the ice. He skated to the gate where Yakov greeted him, and asked him if he did okay. Yakov just shook his head in disbelief and pushed him towards the kiss&cry.

100.8

He was in first place. The others didn’t stand a chance, the person in third place was currently 15 points behind Otabek, who was right after Yuri with his own 98.2 points. He left the kiss&cry in a haze, not stopping for any interviews, leaving Yakov to deal with them. He wandered aimlessly around, looking for the one person he desperately needed to see.

He ended up on the corridor leading to the locker room, with only a few people nearby, quietly standing in front of the screens, watching the last two skaters. He didn’t even glance at them, just continued walking around not really knowing where he wanted to go. 

Yuri barely had enough time to process the warm fingers wrapping around his wrist, before he was pulled into a room. The door closed behind him, and he stood in the middle of the small office, with Otabek watching him silently.

For an impossibly long moment, none of them said anything. Yuri was a bit overwhelmed by how suddenly the situation changed, when a minute ago he was about to wave goodbye to any chance of repairing their friendship. Otabek was looking at him, his arms hanging awkwardly at his side, tilting his head a little, examining Yuri in a careful, guarded way. 

"I didn’t do it to win," he blurted out after it became clear that Otabek wasn’t going to start the conversation. Fuck, that wasn’t really what he wanted to say. He did mean it, though, and he needed the other to know that. 

"What?" Otabek was frowning, slightly confused by what he said.

"I didn’t try to distract you on purpose, if that’s what you think." Yuri bit out the words, and he noticed the irritation and anger, the familiar feelings he used when he attacked to defend himself. 

"I didn’t think that."

"Good," he said, "because I’m not that much of an ass, I would never do that."

"I know." Otabek replied, without even a hint of hesitation in his voice, and Yuri believed him. He stepped closer, and Yuri wanted to touch him, wanted to close the distance and never let him go again. If he thought he missed his friend when he came here, he was fairly mistaken, because that was nothing compared to what he felt now. 

Otabek was right there, just out of his reach. He knew him, he could read every tiny change in his expression, he recognized his every move, just as easily as he did all those years ago, but the distance between them felt like they were still in different countries. He was right there, and Yuri never missed him more. 

"I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you skate," he said, "I had to watch from here."

"But you did," Yuri half asked, half stated it just to hear it again. "Watch me, I mean. You saw it, right?"

"Yes, I saw it."

Fucking hell, it was so awkward, but Yuri had no idea what to say. He was always the one who acted, he kicked and punched and skated and hugged and jumped, instead of using words. He felt a growing impatience nudging him to _do something_.

"Do you know what it was about?"

For a moment, Otabek didn’t seem to know the answer, and waited for him to finish, but Yuri didn’t say anything. He was waiting too, for Otabek to finally get it. 

It happened so quickly that anyone who didn’t know Otabek would have missed it. The Kazakh man’s lips parted and he drew in a short, sharp breath, eyes lighting up in understanding, and it was all Yuri wanted. He leapt forward, throwing his arms around his friend’s neck, his fingers clutching on the soft fabric of the black t-shirt, and Yuri closed his eyes, hiding his face in Otabek’s hair.

He felt a strong arm circling his waist, and another at his shoulder, a hand tentatively brushing through his blonde locks. He felt Otabek’s warm breath at his ear, as the man pulled him in closer, ad he heard him whispering something but it took him a second to understand what.

"Yura, Yura, Yura" Otabek repeated his name, and Yuri was sure it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard in his life. "God, I missed you so much."

Yuri let go of him with one arm and punched him in the shoulder, probably a bit stronger than he meant to.

"Then why didn’t you fucking call me?"

He grabbed Yuri’s hand and kissed his knuckles, sending a jolt through his body as he apologized, saying he didn’t know, it was so stupid, he doesn’t understand what happened, and Yuri agreed, because he had no idea where it all went wrong either. It was entirely possible that it wasn’t even Otabek’s fault, that he was the one who sent the last message, and Yuri didn’t answer, but frankly, Yuri didn’t fucking care anymore, he had Otabek right in his arms and that was the only thing that mattered.

He bent down to touch their foreheads together and sighed.

"I’m taller now," he said, rubbing his nose to Beka’s, hyperaware of every touch they shared, "and I didn’t get to tease you for it."

"You can do it now," he heard the reply, and he felt the ghost of a warm breath against his lips. "And tomorrow," a soft touch, and Yuri pressed forward, wanting more, "and the next day, and the next." 

Yuri didn’t let him speak after that.

 

xxx

 

He stepped on the ice and skated around lazily until the judges were done counting the scores of the previous contestant. He felt prepared, his mind occupied like the day before, but in a completely different way. This time, his heart wasn’t pulling him down, and he wasn’t afraid he couldn’t get through the first jump of his program. Hell, he felt like he could fly and do quintuples if he wanted to. The referee said his name, and the crowd cheered around him, so he skated to the middle of the rink, to take his place.

"Yuri, davai!" he heard Otabek calling out to him. He smiled, raised his hand and gave a thumbs up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it! English isn't my first language so please let me know if you noticed any mistakes (I'm sure I made a few). Also, if you leave a comment i will be eternally happy, because this is actually the first fanfic i've ever written in english so i'm very excited about it. God, it's probably full of typos because I didn't even read it before posting. But anyway. Thanks!


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